After we got home Mother told me that my sister wanted me to return some of the things she ordered, had sent to the home, and wanted us to bring in our luggage when we saw her. This was news to me, but a lot of shit concerning family is news to me.
I was still jetlagged, plus I had "work" at the U., plus I needed to find work, too. So I put it off. No big deal, right?
Well, just in case, I e-mail sis several days after (or into) her honeymoon with my brother-in-law. Do you want me to return these things, I said. Yes, she said -- and please do them soon because there's a deadline and I don't want to pay on my credit card ... or something, I don't remember, but it's something not good for her, and so I stepped on it.
Well, sorta stepped on it. I still had "work" this week, I finally found work last week (the job that started today) and when I got around to boxing up the items to return, I wanted to check their website to make sure. Two things I found out: I needed to return the items within 30 days of it coming here, and I needed to print out a return label. I just can't print any label, though; I had to print one specifically for the items my sister bought. And that means getting into her account, which means knowing her password. So I couldn't do it Tuesday, when I wanted to.
I e-mail her, and she e-mails me that night (maybe she's already back?) with the password. I print it out, tape it on, tape the box down, and prepare it for shipping it, for free, yesterday, which I did, without a hitch.
I tell her this yesterday, and I add that since it's postmarked 30 days after the first of the two orders she placed with this company got to our house, she should be good.
So she writes back. She copied what the return policy on the website. It's receiving the items up to 30 days after date of reception, not postmarked.
She's going to have to settle for store credit, not a refund. And there's a stocking fee for this too.
I'll have to pay for this fucking thing, too. Fuck.
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